Blood Bond
by Navaka114
Summary: Trapped with his classmates in the school during a blackout with a storm raging outside, Marco didn't think it could get much worse. Until Janna uses his blood to try and summon a demon…and one APPEARS. Now, blood bonded to a Usurped Demon Prince, Marco has to decide whether or not he wishes to involve himself in this Monster-Mewni war or...Tom, himself. And what's up with Star?
1. Chapter 1: There Are Worse Things

**Title** : Blood Bond

 **Summary** : Trapped with his classmates in the school during a blackout with a storm raging outside, Marco didn't think it could get much worse. Until Janna uses his blood to try and summon a demon…it was when one actually _appeared_ that life got worse. Now, blood bonded to a usurped demon prince, Marco has to decide whether or not he wishes to involve himself in this Monster-Mewni war and with the demon, _Tom_ , himself. Though...it doesn't look like he has a choice in the matter. And what's up with Star?

 **Word** **Count** : ~4000

 **Disclaimer** : I do not own Star Vs the Forces of Evil, but man…it'd be great to even meet the creator…

 **Notes** : Been wanting to write some TomCo! But many of my ideas just didn't seem to _fit_ …and, also, with all the speculation behind Toffee I didn't want to make any assumptions because the entire _world_ of Star Vs the Forces of Evil could change just like _that_. Regardless, I wanted to post this First Chapter, maybe Two, and see what type of response it gets (also, I'm a college student, so I'm sorry but this isn't my first priority even though I dearly love this fandom and TomCo). So, Review if you Enjoy and Want More!

Note, Flames are ignored. Just point blank, ignored. Constructive Criticism and Theories are MUCH Appreciated, but Shipping Wars and Rudeness shall be deleted. People post on here because they want others to enjoy their work, it's completely your choice to click on it at all so please don't make it into an assassination attempt or WW3.

Update: Some grammar and spelling corrections; still working out the kinks after all.

 **Warnings:** Alternative Universe, Language, Violence, Blood, Emotional Angst, etc.

 **Tags:** Alternate Universe—Star Never Got Wand And Is Hiding On Earth—Toffee Vs Mewni War—Toffee Being A Brilliant Jerk The Past Three Years—Slowburn TomCo—Blood Bond—Janna Needs To Stop Messing With the Supernatural—Blood Moon Ramblings—Time Is A Bit Different Than Canon—Marco Suffers _A Lot—_ I Enjoy Emotional Angst—

o0o0o

 _ **~~~~~~Chapter 1: There Are Worse Things Than Being Trapped At School~~~~~~**_

o0o0o

Marco couldn't think there were many worse things than being trapped at school. Besides being trapped with his classmates. In the middle of a blackout. And literally _trapped_ since there was some sort of _hurricane_ going on outside that was flooding the streets and literally making this place harder to reach by their parents than the other side of _No Man's Land._

Still, there could be worse things…but when Janna, his seventeen-year-old classmate who was _obsessed_ with the occult and supernatural, came over and _cut_ his hand deep enough that it began to bleed— _it was then that he decided enough was enough._

" _Ow_!" He quickly drew back his hand, _glaring_ as deeply as possible as he could at the obviously _psychotic_ Janna Ordonia. Sure, at first glance, she didn't seem that bad. Perhaps a bit _mischievous_ looking with her short dark-blue hair, smirking brown eyes, olive green beanie hat, and punk rock clothing in the form of red checkered pants _,_ tight black shirt with the word ' _Nirvana'_ printed with yellow letters, black gloves, and various piercings…but Marco, who had known her when she was an _equally insane_ pre-schooler, knew that the girl before her was nothing but _trouble_. She was a bit of kleptomaniac and somehow had _all_ his personal information— _leading to awkward calls and denials that he 'ever contacted this business and no I do not want a macabre baby doll' and 'no, Sir, I'm not trying to insult your…business…but I have no need for ruby colored handcuffs'—_ so, the fact that she had his blood right now was _very alarming_.

"Why in the world did you do that!?" He held his hand close to his body while already going to his pre-packed medical kit in his backpack. Since his housemate, Star, had come to live with them three years ago, he found that carrying bandages, disinfectant, and various medical ointments were _essential_ to his sanity and future health. Also, he was admittedly very fond of being hygienic and enjoyed being able to disinfect his hands to prevent bacteria build-up. "Really, Janna, I'm _really not in the mood_."

Janna held her hands up in mock defense. "Chill out, Diaz," She said with a smirk that did not make him ' _chill out'_ in the least. "I'm just using your blood to make a demon summoning ritual circular."

...He just gawked at her for a moment before realizing that she was serious. Well, of _course_ she was serious! This was _Janna!_ The same girl who wanted to become "BFFs" with a living skeleton and performed seances with his best friend every other _weekend_. Oh God, he had to stop this.

Instead of saying something snappy, or at least mature and heroic, his next words came out rather… _whiny_. " _Please_ , Janna, can you _not_ tonight? I draw a line at you using my actual _blood_ —which, seriously, that _hurt—_ and isn't this night terrible enough?"

With his uninjured hand, he gestured around the gym which was full of their fellow classmates, lower grade students, and instructors. Since they had been basically forced to do a 'school-wide sleepover,' they were divided off into their individual corners and gender groups— _he was sssoooooo thankful that everyone had at least listened to that—_ before being fed by the Culinary Club about an hour ago. Aka, they were given cans of things like peaches or tuna while being served crackers on the side. Blackout, remember? No electricity to supply the kitchen. If so, he could have cooked. Well, he _supposed_ he could have…like he could have made the canned food and crackers more appetizing…but he _really_ didn't want to get roped into feeding the _entire student body_. As a result, he pushed down his conscience and dutifully accepted the questionable non-perishables.

Janna shrugged. "That's why I'm trying to make it more interesting!" Why did she have to sound so reasonable? Especially when every word out of her mouth was _insane_? "I would have used my own blood, believe me, but this particular spell calls for the ' _Blood of a Virgin'_ and all."

Marco turned bright red, a state which only increased when he heard the snickering of some ninth graders a few feet away playing some sort of dice game. "Would you _shut it_?" He hissed, trying to calm the raging blush on his face. "And, I, I mean—"

The Filipina put on a mock expression of comfort. "There, there, Marco," She cooed in a way that was the exact _opposite_ of soothing. "I'm sure _some girl_ will be able to penetrate that iron fortress you got going on there and get you laid. Or, I suppose, some _guy—_ "

" _Shut up_!" Why, oh _why him!?_ This night couldn't get worse. He would do _anything_ to get off the subject of his…relationship status…and to anything else. He'd probably regret his next words, but _anything_ was better than Janna making her usual provocative statements. "What is the blood even _for_?"

The dark-blue haired girl grinned beckoning— _a very reluctant—_ Marco over from his spot— _he made sure to grab his backpack, those ninth graders had been eyeing his stuff—_ over to where she _literally_ had what looked to be a ritual circular. Luckily, or perhaps not luckily, it wasn't made from blood but instead drawn with what looked to be powder and ash with a ceramic bowl in the center and candles placed at the intersecting lines. Marco would ask where she had gotten all this stuff…but he knew for a fact that she carried it all with her on a regular basis or in her locker, so he didn't bother.

"This," She said, rather proudly. "Is my latest attempt at summoning a demon!"

"Why would you even _want_ to?" While Marco had never met a supernatural creature in his life— _and wasn't even sure if they existed in the first place—_ he found that he was quite content with never meeting one. Honestly, with Star, he got all the excitement he _needed_ in life. Add Janna to the mix, and his life was a regular rollercoaster of thrills. "Aren't they, well, _evil_?"

Janna snorted, shaking her head as if a teacher instructing a foolish student. "Now, now, Diaz," She spoke in a patronizing tone. "Is it really fair to judge a species or person you've never even _met_? Where's that 'culturally-accepting' and 'fair-minded' Safety Kid that we all know and love?"

"Don't call me that," He said with a scowl, staying true to the idea that he was misunderstood B _ad_ B _oy_. While he wasn't as insistent upon escaping the title "Safety Kid" as he was at fourteen— _there was nothing wrong with wanting security in life—_ he firmly rejected the idea that he couldn't be exciting and adventure seeking. After all, just last week, he had _willingly_ gone with Star forty miles to some bizarre that she wanted to see. Those people were certainly sketchy and constantly made him redirect Star's path of destruction! See, he was always involved in dangerous things! "If I meet a demon, and he or she is fine and not trying to eat me or whatever, then _okay_. Otherwise, I'd prefer not going out of my way to interrupt their lives. Ever think that whatever demon you're trying to summon doesn't _want_ to be summoned?"

Janna shrugged. "Guess we won't know until we try it. Jeeze, you're definitely high-strung today, Diaz. Is it because Star is home with a cold?"

Marco scowled at the reminder of his friend's sickness. Honestly, it was a _big part_ while he was so upset about being stuck at Echo Creek Academy. His friend didn't get ill often, but every time she did she was _strangely secretive_ and refused to let him into her room at times. It was never as bad as that one time, a little bit after she came to live with them, she had left _school_ and barricaded herself in her room for a literal _day_ before coming out and acting as if everything was fine. Since then, and with Marco's natural over-protective tendencies, he tried to be able to do whatever possible he could for her when she was ill. She might not always let him in, but he could make food, bring her blankets, entertain her from outside the door…yeah, he was a bit of a mother-hen.

It was actually _yesterday_ when Star had gotten sick out of the blue. They didn't know what caused it— _they never did—_ but she had claimed to be fine, just needed to have some of Marco's delicious Paleo Chicken Noodle Soup and lots of Banagic ice cream— _he tried to tell her that eating dairy while ill wasn't a good idea, but the girl was addicted to the stuff_. So, he had left her home yesterday, and today, but it was _today_ that this _freak storm_ had come out of nowhere and trapped them here. So, if he was a little nervous about spending the night here, even while knowing that Star was in the perfectly capable hands of his parents, then _excuse him_.

"You _cutting me_ — _that knife better be sanitized—_ isn't making me any more chipper," He replied a bit sarcastically to her question, causing her to snort. "So…" He gestured towards the ritual circle, knowing that nothing was going to stop this girl now. The fact the teachers hadn't even _blinked_ in the direction of this…thing…was proof that nothing would stop this horribly timed— _of course, in Marco's opinion, any time you try to summon a demon is horribly timed—_ ritual. "How's this work?"

Janna grinned at his perceived 'interest' and puffed out her chest. "This one is _really_ intricate," She bragged. "It might not look like it, but there are _tons_ of Runes beneath all that ash and powder and that bowl in the middle is filled with herbs and essences that cost me a _fortune_ to find. I've been preparing this one for _months_ and it was either _tonight_ or four weeks from now that I had to do it."

"Why tonight or one month from now?" He asked warily, wondering if he wanted to hear the answer.

Janna gestured towards the sky. Or, rather, the roof of the gymnasium where the sounds of rain and wind could be heard furiously pelting its walls, but he knew what she meant. "The moon," She explained. "It's _exactly_ one month before the Blood Moon."

"And that means…?"

She snorted. "It's the _New Moon_ , you dolt. Which means that it's basically the 'reverse' of the Full Moon, the beginning of the twenty-nine and a half day cycle before the Full Moon which, in this case, is a _Blood Moon_. It only happens every _667_ _years_!"

His brow furrowed, the smell of ash reaching his nose as he reached up to rub it. "Then wouldn't you want to do it on the Blood Moon? Sounds more important than just some random New Moon."

She rolled her eyes. "Like I said, the _New Moon_ is basically the reverse. It's when it is directly in line with the sun and _invisible_ from Earth. It means that the energy that will supply the Full Moon, the Blood Moon, is directly available! During the other phases of this month, it will only be at partial power before reaching _double_ its maximum with the Blood Moon. It's really serious stuff, Diaz!"

"I'm…not sure that's exactly how the Lunar Cycle works," He said slowly, a crinkle in his forehead from the sheer fact he was attempting to understand all of this. "But I suppose I get what you mean. But why not wait for the Blood Moon if it's twice as powerful?"

"I wanted to see if this ritual works," Explained Janna. "And, if not, I'll make changes and re-do it for the Blood Moon."

"Blood Moon…" He tasted out the name, grimacing. "Why do I feel that's not a really 'good thing'?"

She snorted. "It's fine, you dolt. In fact, a romantic like you would probably _love it_. Apparently, if you're hit by its direct ray with another person, you're bonded for eternity. Like, souls and _everything_."

"That sounds terrible," He deadpanned. "But, if the New Moon is the 'reverse' or whatever, then wouldn't it have the opposite effect of and 'rip people apart' or whatever?"

She shrugged, walking around the circle and beginning to light the red candles placed at the line intersections. "I don't think so, 'reverse' was probably a bad word to use, I meant that more in the whole 'type' and thing. It's the same energy after all."

"And I bet you're hoping that this energy will connect you with some _demon_ ," Slowly reasoned out Marco, slowly confirming to himself that, he was right, and this sheer _insanity_. "Yeah, I was right, this is a terrible idea." His eyes widened. "Wait, if you're using my blood, does that mean that you're connecting me with a demon!?"

She rolled her eyes playfully, hitting him on the arm— _he winced, hadn't he suffered enough today!?—_ before going towards the center of the circle with the strange dagger. "Nah," She explained. "Natural Demon-Human bonds are, like, _non-existent._ I'm honestly just using your _virgin blood—_ " Oh, God, would she _stop saying that!?_ "—as a sort of 'neutral sample' in this. Plus, the Runes I put underneath the charcoal should probably change what I'm summoning a bit—or make it stronger, who knows? I'm not really sure."

"Wait, what?"

Before he could say another word, Janna had flicked a drop of his blood into the bowl.

It was then, when _sheer chaos_ was released, that Marco _really_ wished he had just _stayed home_.

o0o0o

"Not so smug now are you, _Brother_?" Sneered a voice from on top of him, pressing _hot steel_ into his already burning and scarred back.

Still, it didn't stop the lavender-skinned demon from _snarling_ at the _traitor_ above him and trying to call upon his flames—but it was no good. The bastard, and his fellow _radical devotees,_ had somehow _sealed_ his access to his Magic. While Tom wasn't useless without them, being literally _backstabbed_ and attacked 200 demons raring for his blood to _1_ made the odds…a bit more lopsided.

"You're _no brother of mine_ , _Caiaphas_ ," Spat out Tom, struggling against the burning asphalt beneath him and trying to focus on something other than the mocking jeers of this freak's entourage surrounding him. He had…been slightly bested…about an hour ago. But, instead of quickly ending his life, Caiaphas had spent _said hour_ further beating and _mocking_ him for all to see.

Speaking of all to see, Tom couldn't help but glance at the corner of his eye where the Throne of the Underworld resided…as well as its ruler, Abbadon.

Also known as…his father. And, sadly, Caiaphas's father. He also had a lot _more_ half-brothers and half-sisters, but he personally didn't keep much track. He had been the royal heir up until now, and his siblings were literally all _jerks_ , so he hadn't found a reason to. Perhaps he should have, otherwise, he wouldn't have been in this situation where he had been attacked in his private quarters— _while Runed against intruders, the royal family had less trouble breaking through them than the rest of the Underworld—_ and dragged out in this fight before for their father.

A father…who honestly couldn't care how this fight ended up.

Caiaphas, a muscled red-skinned demon with three hideous _yellow_ eyes, snorted before dragging Tom up by his hair and displaying him before their father. The jeers around them grew and Tom fervently _wished_ that he could move, could do _anything_ , but knew that his so-called 'Brother' had slipped some sort of poison into his system long before. Its first stage was paralysis, but, in a slow and _agonizing_ , fashion, it would eventually end him in the most painful way possible—by _consuming his internals first before he could finally perish_.

Caiaphas was many things— _a slimy backstabbing cowardly monster in the literal sense who cared nothing for others or the citizens of the Underworld while secretly coveting the throne—_ but he was an _expert_ in various toxins and poisons. He obviously had put quite a bit of _oomph_ into this one because, even with his superior DNA, Tom could feel himself falling more and more into the Second Stage of this poison— _uncontrollable delirium that led to insanity_. While it eased upon on the paralysis during this stage, it was even _worse_ because he would literally be unable to control his body as it rampaged due to the pain _eating him from the inside out._

" _Father_!" Shouted Caiaphas proudly, displaying Tom's battered body for all to see. "I have bested your _favorite son_ and have earned the right to the throne!"

"I have no favorite son," Spoke Abbadon emotionally. "Whoever is strong enough to keep their place as my Heir until my murder," Note, he said murder. In the history of the Lucitor Family, there really hadn't been a 'peaceful transition of power'. Tom had hoped he could avoid that messy business…but perhaps he should have done what his uncle did and eliminated all of his siblings as they were born; it was just bad luck that his uncle had contacted a disease before killing Tom's father, leaving him as the only heir. "Shall keep it and decide the fate of the Underworld."

"Then that is _me_!" Roared Caiaphas triumphantly, throwing Tom's body down at Abbadon's apathetic feet. "I will not take your life, yet, Father," Spoke Caiaphas, as if it was a done deal. While Abbadon had inherited the throne on a technicality and was rather apathetic to the duties of it, _he was certainly no push-over_. If he had been, the Revolutionaries, a group of citizens who wished for fairness and rights, would have been able to kill him long ago. "But, as you can see, I have defeated your Heir! Declare me now and I shall lead our armies to victory!"

Tom's fist tightened at the reminder of Caiaphas' particular reasoning for this usurping. It wasn't just because he wanted to be the Lord of the Underworld, but because of the War between Monsters— _aka, the Immortal and his forces—_ with the other dimensions— _Mewni and those part of that collective alliance—_ was, for lack of a better word, really _heating up_.

So far, under Tom's command, because Abbadon could really care less about some things, the Underworld had been neutral in the entire thing. While he desperately wanted to protect Star's Kingdom— _Star…where was she…it had been so many years—_ he knew that the Immortal was not one to be underestimated and, should they choose sides, would likely end up badly for the Underworld and its residents. He wasn't the greatest mock-ruler, but he honestly cared about the people. He once cared for nothing but his own feelings and desires— _when Star had dumped him, prompting him to try and change everything in his life for her—_ Star's disappearance had shaken him to his core. He began to question his priorities and who he wanted to be in life.

With the Mewni-Monster War escalating and bringing all the other dimensions into it— _whether they were directly involved in the fighting or neutral like him, they were still greatly affected—_ he had been forced to step up and quell the near civil wars in his kingdom over what side they should support. While very few were up for protecting Mewni— _after all, none had forgotten about how the Mewmans had gained their power in the first place—_ they weren't _savages_ who wanted to harm innocents born generations after the Great Monster Massacre. That was the majority of the civilian and merchant classes, the middle and lower (who, in the past few years, he had gotten much closer to and sympathetic towards their plight, even if there was little he could do quelling possible civil wars and maintaining 'peace'). Meanwhile, a great deal of the nobles wished to join the Immortal and shed as much blood as _possible._ He had been _very_ busy these past few years preventing bloodshed among his own people that he wasn't even able to search much for where Star had gone to. He just knew, even now, that he didn't want to do anything to harm her.

So, for his people, he would keep the Underworld out of the Mewni-Monster War.

For Star, he would keep the Underworld from joining the Immortal's side in the Mewni-Monster.

But…now… _that was all about to change_.

He had to get up, had to stop this _buzzing_ in his head, but, despite his efforts, he was only able to dig his fingernails into the ash and brimstone. His vision was getting more and more blurry, his breathing becoming erratic against his will, and making even doing _that_ a near impossibility.

" _Awww_ ," Mocked Caiaphas, laughing at Tom's plight. "Does the _widdle prince_ need some help?"

Out of nowhere, Caiaphas brought his foot into Tom's side.

Tom nearly choked, hearing more than feeling bones _SHATTER_ in his side. He heaved, trying to prevent the bile from rising up in his throat and spilling out. He had lost much this day, but he wouldn't let Caiaphas take the shreds of dignity that remained.

 _Though, in a few minutes, he wouldn't be able to control losing that either…losing your mind generally made control difficult…_

The vision in his three eyes— _or, more like one and a half, since the top was swollen shut and his right eye rubbed raw with brimstone ash as his face was rammed into the ground—_ swam and he coughed violently. He felt himself being lifted up once more and he did his best to glower down at that worthless excuse for a demon—not that it probably did much.

"Poor, poor, _Tomias_ ," Sneered Caiaphas. "Not so _strong_ now? I must admit, _Brother_ , that you've remained on your high horse these past _eighteen years_ —but _no longer_! You've always been a _freak_ and _disgrace_ to the Lucitor name! Once, perhaps, you had been _nearly_ worthy of the name…your _Magic_ the least pitiful thing about you...but you lost what respect you once held when you met that _Mewman_ —Star Butterfly, wasn't it?"

At the name of his ex-girlfriend, Tom couldn't help the _snarl_ that was released from his throat.

Caiaphas laughed jeeringly. "How _pathetic_!? Still obsessed with that _dead princess_ , aren't you? Oh? You thought I didn't know about that? About how _no one_ has seen the so-called _Mewni Princess_ for _three years_? I _suppose_ it's possible they hid her away, like the _pathetic_ _cowards the Mewman are_ , but, where could she have _possibly gone!?_ You may have been trying to keep the Underworld out of this War, Brother, but no other dimension can say the same! The Immortal's rage will _consume_ this Universe! And it's about time the Underworld takes the _winning side_!"

" _You'll...never…win…"_ Choked out Tom, Caiaphas' claws gripping his throat even tighter at the response. " _You'll…_ _ **always**_ _…be a_ _ **worthless**_ _…excuse—_ "

Before Tom could finish, he was being slammed to the ground. But, his point had obviously gotten through because Caiaphas was more _enraged_ than ever. Even if this turned out to be the last thing he saw, he was more than pleased with wounding the other's ego.

" _You're_ the _worthless_ one," Snarled Caiaphas. "You know, I wanted to see you _writhe_ , go _insane_ before screaming your _agony_ at your death, but... I think I'll end it here."

One of his zealots tossed over a jagged obsidian dagger—one that Tom knew could _more_ than end his life if stabbed correctly. Caiaphas caught it without even looking before glancing over to the Throne of the Underworld once more. "On your command, Father?"

Abbadon, as apathetic as always, didn't bother lifting a finger. "Do what you wish, I have no part in this."

Caiaphas grinned maliciously before bringing the dagger above his head. "Goodbye, Brother," Whispered the red-skinned demon, obviously pleased that this was the way it was going to end. " _I hope you rot in eternal agony._ "

He swung—

 _It was then, colorful filling his vision as the Second Stage of the poison kicked in, that he suddenly felt a_ _ **lurching**_ _sensation at the bottom of his gut. He didn't know what it was but only knew that his body was being painfully whipped around in every direction. And, as much as he tried to remain strong, he couldn't help feel…_ _ **afraid**_ _._

 _Yet, as the insanity consumed his mind, and he felt himself fade into a painfully searing light—he thought, just for a moment, that he could_ _ **feel**_ _something calling out for him…_

 _Something…not terrible…_

 _ **Everything went dark.**_

o0o0o

 ** _End Chapter 1_**

o0o0o

 **Author's Notes: Well! What do you guys think? I honestly expected to get further than this in the first chapter, but Janna wanted screen time and Tom's half-brother Caiaphas didn't know how to shut up so…yeah… Marco's trapped at school with crazy classmates and blood rituals and Tom's on the unfavorable end of a royal usurpation. Fun times.**

 **Also, Kudos to whoever can accurately tell me the origin of Tom's 'Name' (Tomias) and Caiaphas!**

 **Review please!**


	2. Chapter 2: Bad Days

**Title** : Blood Bond

 **Summary** : Trapped with his classmates in the school during a blackout with a storm raging outside, Marco didn't think it could get much worse. Until Janna uses his blood to try and summon a demon…and one APPEARS. Now, blood bonded to a usurped demon prince, Marco has to decide whether or not he wishes to involve himself in this Monster-Mewni war and with the demon, _Tom_ , himself. Though...it doesn't look like he has a choice in the matter. And what's up with Star?

 **Word** **Count** : ~5300

 **Disclaimer** : I do not own Star Vs the Forces of Evil, but man…it'd be great to even meet the creator…

 **Notes** : Here's the Second Chapter! Was originally supposed to be part of the First Chapter but, eh, I always write more than I plan—it's a terrible habit lol. If I decide to continue on with this, it'll probably be weekly updates like this.

And, same rules as before, Constructive Criticism—Yay! Flames— _Ignored_.

 **Warnings:** Alternative Universe, Language, Violence, Blood, Emotional Angst, etc.

 **Tags:** Alternate Universe—Star Never Got Wand And Is Hiding On Earth—Toffee Vs Mewni War—Toffee Being A Brilliant Jerk The Past Three Years—Slowburn TomCo—Blood Bond—Janna Needs To Stop Messing With the Supernatural—Blood Moon Ramblings—Time Is A Bit Different Than Canon—Marco Suffers _A Lot—_ I Enjoy Emotional Angst—

o0o0o

 _ **~~~~~~Chapter 2: Bad Day No Matter The Dimension~~~~~~**_

o0o0o

 _agonyconfusionwhereamiwhereishethat_ _ **traitor**_ _helppainpain_ _ **PAIN**_

 _He tried to shake off the white-hot agony, but it wouldn't leave no matter what he did. He could feel his body thrashing, but, at the same time, all of his limbs felt_ _ **numb**_ _and heavy like he was wading through cooling lava._ _He_ _couldn't understand what was happening. None of his eyes were working—_ or, rather, all he could see was shapes and blurs— _and the ringing in his ears was only getting_ _ **worse**_ _._

 _He felt himself_ _ **ROAR**_ _, clawing at something beneath him and feeling that, whatever it was, breaking. He hoped it was one of those bastards, but it could very well be an innocent civilian for all he knew._

 _He knew he had to stop, to get control, to find out what the_ _ **hell**_ _was going on, to attack the_ _ **traitor**_ _…_

 _But there was no control. None._

 _Only fear as he felt himself slip further into insanity and agony._

o0o0o

Where there once was a dark gymnasium filled with unhappy school children whining amongst each other, there was now something much worse. What could be worse than that, one may ask? Well, perhaps Marco was in the minority for thinking so but…

…a _**FLYING**_ _ **DEMON ON FIRE**_ _was definitely an_ _ **ISSUE**_ _!_

The gym was now reminiscent of a _war zone_. There was nothing left of the ritual circle from before, a flaming _crater_ taking its place and where the Demon was levitating over seemingly intent on transforming the rest of room into a similar state. Shattered glass from the windows laid scattered across the waxed floors along with torn blankets, food spilled in the rush to escape, shredded pieces of homework, burning backpacks, and broken pieces of tables.

Oh, and there was screaming.

Can't have a _war zone_ without screaming after all.

It was sheer chaos the moment the Demon emerged and began, for lack of a better word, _freaking out_. It— _he? Probably male, though Marco didn't want to judge—_ had begun shouting in some sort of garbled language while giving off shockwaves— _they're what had broken the windows and started off this destruction—_ and flames from his body. While few in the gymnasium had understood what was happening, that little instinct that yelled out _DANGER_ had been working well as students began screaming and trying to escape the Demon's flames or shockwaves. Many of the teachers had been too terrified to move but _Ms. Skullnick-who Marco still had as a teacher somehow-_ had immediately taken control and started yelling at the students to go to the inside of the school.

If he had a moment to think, Marco would have agreed with her direction. It was still what basically amounted to a _hurricane_ outside and could prove to be just as dangerous as the Demon inside (well, in the way that someone would probably _die_ ), so going outside wasn't really an option for a huge crowd like that. Of course, if they had to, they probably would, but for now getting _away_ _from the Rampaging Demon_ was the priority.

Except for Marco, that is.

"Marco!" Called out Ferguson, his large body shaking on the other side of the gym but proving himself to be a loyal friend for not immediately leaving. Alfonzo, whose glasses had been broken but an obvious minor concern in the face of current circumstances, stood beside him with a pleading expression.

 _"Diaz!"_ Snapped Ms. Skullnick, in-between pushing students and terrified instructors through the door and preventing anyone from tripping into the fate of _tenderized doormat_. "What are you doing!?"

Marco, who had been steadily making his way back towards the Demon's emergent point ever since his instincts had made him jump back, pointed over to an unconscious body a few feet away from the Rampaging Demon— _Janna_. She hadn't been able to get away fast enough— _he cursed himself for not grabbing her, but she had been feet away in the center of the ritual circle and it had all happened too fast for him to react—_ and had been blown back from the Demon's arrival. She appeared to be knocked out— _Marco was very concerned by the visible blood trailing down her face from beneath her beanie—_ and laying limp beside a broken table.

"I have to get to _Janna_!" He yelled out, rolling over to a spot where the ground had been broken and risen— _apparently, it was where one of the pipes for the locker rooms was because there was stale-smelling water was spilling out and covering the ground—_ before peeking his head over to see what the Demon was doing.

He _narrowly_ dodged a wave of flames, yelping as a few strands of his hair _didn't_ make it through unscathed. As soon as he was done putting it out, he braved another look over—his heart sinking into his stomach as he realized there was quite a bit of distance between the Demon— _and Janna nearby—_ and him.

He cursed, with the Demon _right there_ , he'd never get close enough to Janna. And, with every moment that passed, the expounding flames and rubble dropped fell threateningly _close_ to her defenseless form. He knew that him getting to her before something inevitably happened was near impossible, which left the only other option.

 _Getting the Demon away from her._

But how? Marco didn't think the Demon was…coherent? Of course, it was hard to tell while dodging exploding flames and the fact that the Demon was about twenty feet in the air, but it definitely looked like his path of destruction was more… _random_ than aimed at anyone or anything in particular. To be honest— _if Marco looked at it from a hysterical, head half-cocked point of view_ —it looked like he was in… _pain_? Like the Demon was… _self-destructing_ or something?

 _Curse it!_ He had _told_ Janna that whatever Demon she summoned probably wouldn't _want_ to be summoned! Obviously, this one had been in the middle of something and was now reacting rather violently no matter how you looked at it! But, and curse his bleeding heart— _oh dear God he hoped that wouldn't become literal in a few minutes—_ he wasn't going to just leave Janna there to _die_. She was his friend— _even with her questionable actions—_ So, that left only one thing to do…

He swallowed, praying to every deity he has ever read or heard about, and looked at his surroundings to prepare. He didn't have time to waste, but this was definitely going to be unpleasant. He quickly set his plan in motion, pulling off his hoodie and— _with a grimace—_ soaked it in the stale water spilling out. He felt ridiculous, but while he mourned his poor hoodie's fate— _it was his favorite—_ he knew he had to do it. Besides, he was about to get soaked in another way— _in about thirty seconds if he survived that long—_ so it was a small price to pay in order to have as much protection as possible. While he would be slower with a wet hoodie, he would be a lot harder to catch fire from the various flaming objects in the Gym— _the Demon being in that top spot_ —and that was _certainly_ something Marco wanted. Still, he couldn't help his shudder as he pulled it back on— _sticking his arms through the sleeves was far harder than it should have been; could have been his shaking—_ before beginning to stealthily move towards the opposite exit of the Gym.

" _Marco!" "Diaz!"_

He ignored the calling of his name— _good, they hadn't abandoned him, that was definitely a part of the plan—_ and searched his surroundings. It was easy enough to find a discarded textbook— _or, rather, it was a hardcover copy of the History of Love Sentence; he mourned its brave sacrifice—_ and weighed it carefully in his hand. He gave a mental nod. It would work.

" _Ferguson_!" He called, ducking under another shockwave emitted, strong enough that it made the gymnasium walls _rattle_ from the force. " _Get ready to get Janna!"_

" _What!?_ "

Marco looked away from the frantic faces of his friends and to the Rampaging Demon in the air. Said Demon was clutching his head while giving enough heat that Marco could feel it from down below even in his wet hoodie. Rubble and flames circled around his body as the Demon continued to mutter in that strange language and, at random moments, expounded shockwaves from his body. Marco swallowed, building up his courage, lifting the _History of Love Sentence_ —

"… _What_ …?"

Marco's eyes widened as he saw Janna move from right beneath the Demon. To his horror, the Demon seemed to also notice and his attention redirected from himself to the small body beneath him. Why!? Marco had been freaking screaming and the Demon had never once looked over at him!? But, there was no time, he had to act _now_ —

" _HEY! DEMON GUY!"_ Marco screamed, easily getting the attention of the Demon— _he had definitely been lucky before that his yelling at Ferguson and co. hadn't gotten him more than indirect flames shot at his head—_ and Janna, the latter still not quite coherent. " _CATCH ME IF YOU CAN!"_

He _launched_ the _History of Love Sentence_ at the Demon's head, fearing that it wouldn't hit with the rubble and flames circling around him. But, to some _miracle_ , it got through and _smacked_ the Demon from the face. _Bullseye!_

The Demon's attention was immediately redirected from Janna to Marco. For a moment, Marco felt his heart had stopped as those three flaming orbs met his— _yeah, he was terrified—_ and seemed to _stare_ deep into his soul. He felt something tugging inside of him— _obviously, it was telling him to_ _ **get the heck out of there**_ _but he was obviously paralyzed by fear—_ and he swallowed.

For a moment, nobody moved.

Then the Demon let out a fearsome _**RRRROOOOOAAARRRR!**_

' _Time to go!_ ' Thought Marco as he dived out of the way of a _well-aimed_ blast of fire— _and, thank God that he had soaked his hoodie because that fire had been hot enough to apparently set the rest of his surroundings_ _ **aflame**_.

 _Oh yeah, he had **definitely** gotten the Demon's attention now._

Rolling to his feet, he wasted no time _sprinting_ the last few feet to the Emergency Exit— _this was definitely an emergency! And if the sprinkles could still turn on, then it was certainly about time!—_ and shoving the metal door open. He thought he could hear yells behind him, maybe even Janna, but there was no stopping now.

The moment he opened the heavy door, _wind_ and _rain_ began furiously pelting his face. He ignored it best as he could, pulling the strings of his hoodie tightly upon his face before _sprinting_ out into the typhoon. He wasn't sure if the Demon was following—

 _ **CCCCRRRAAAASSSSHHHH**_

' _Nope,'_ Thought Marco, pumping his legs and sliding over a car parked in the back. _'He's_ _ **definitely**_ _ **right behind**_ _me!'_

It's _pouring_ outside. As if someone had a magically created a permanent _rain cloud_ over him personally intent on making his life as _miserable_ as possible. He suddenly felt grateful for all those lessons from Sensei about channeling his emotions and being able to move his body push its known boundaries cause he was _definitely_ relying on his _fear_ _to get him out of this!_

His sneakers were soaked mere _moments_ after going outside and painfully _squelched_ with every step he took over the slick blacktop. Soon, it was no longer blacktop and was instead the muddy, grass covered ground of the forest which was even _more_ difficult to keep his footing on.

Distantly, he could hear a path of destruction from behind him— _don't look back. Don't look back._ _ **Don't look back**_ _—_ but was far more concerned with getting as much distance as possible from the school. He wasn't sure if the Demon would want to go after Janna for summoning him, but he certainly had been a danger in that confined area. While this hurricane was miserable— _and extremely life threatening—_ to Marco's health, it was still _rain_ on a _Fire Demon—well, he was probably some sort of Demon of Fire at the least—_ so he hoped that it would weaken the other's threat. Though, by the sound of _crashes_ and _explosions_ behind him, it wasn't doing _nearly_ enough.

Marco _yelped_ as a tree beside him let out a loud _CRACK_ as a tree a few feet from him was hit with a concentrated flame and fell into Marco's path. He _narrowly_ dodged it by jumping over, wincing as his knees painfully hit the ground— _covering his entire front with mud—_ but unable to check the sudden aches as he got up and started running again.

Apparently, the Demon thought that repeating that method would be effective because, suddenly, all the trees in Marco's path were hit— _no doubt that shockwave ability from before, or some other sort of telekinetic ability—_ and _falling in front of him!_

" _ARE YOU SERIOUS!?"_ Marco couldn't resist screaming, leaping and dodging at the _forest falling on top of him_. For a moment, he let his instincts take over— _he had no choice—_ and felt himself moving forward and backward, jumping up and sliding down, dodging left to right, and a lot of _other 'should have been **unnecessary** BS but somehow very **essential** to his **survival'**_ type of movements.

 _Narrowly_ sliding through the falling gap of the last two trees, Marco _heaved_ for breath— _almost choking, not just because oxygen was very difficult to come by at the moment but because he felt like he was_ _ **drowning**_ _every time he opened his mouth—_ before straightening and forcing his _burning_ legs to run some more. That little ' _exercise'_ had just about _drained_ him. Hot sweat was mixing with the chilling rainwater and sticking his clothing to him like the most uncomfortable second skin possible. However, he knew if he stopped, life would get _far_ more unpleasant.

 _So he kept running._

He didn't know how much time it took, or how many times the Demon _almost_ caught up or _nearly_ blew his head off with a fireball, but it was entirely _too long_ when he _finally_ saw the entrance to the cemetery. He wasn't sure if he was crying from relief or if his face just going numb from the wind, but _hope_ sprung in his heart.

Marco knew that he wouldn't be able to hide anywhere from between the school and here, there was just no coverage in the surrounding forest and the Demon was too good. But, the cemetery had _plenty_ of— _creepy—_ places to hide. He hoped, perhaps in vain, that he would be able to get to one of these hiding places and the Demon would _finally_ tire out from the rain or just plain _give up_. What he would do after that, he didn't know. And, yeah, this was a _horrible_ plan to be basing his life upon...

 _...But_ _it was the only plan he had!_

Reaching down during his sprint— _nearly tripping, this storm was unforgiving and he wouldn't be surprised if he suddenly keeled over from a heart attack—_ he picked up fist-sized rocks and began jamming them into his pockets. This wasn't going to work, _no way_ , but, frankly, _his life depended on it._

Dodging behind a tombstone just as the Demon came _ripping_ out of the forest— _he definitely didn't look as bright or threatening as he did in the Gym, but, well, he was still a_ _ **Flying FIRE DEMON—**_ he glanced around frantically for a suitable target. Catching sight of Bon Bon's grave— _complete with an etching of what Bon Bon had supposedly looked like—_ he aimed— _if only his arms would stop shaking so much!—_ and _threw_.

Fortune must have been smiling upon him because the rock _somehow_ made a loud _CRACK_ against the other gravestone even with the howling wind. Marco ducked down behind his tombstone— _oh God, please let_ _ **that**_ _not become literal either—_ and peered over the side, struggling to keep his eyes open with the rain as he watched the Demon's actions.

The Demon, who had seemingly been looking around, snapped his head— _or, rather, turned in a complete 180…yeah, no doubt, this guy wasn't human—_ towards the Bon Bon Gravestone. And, after a moment, began to move fly towards it.

' _That's it…'_ Thought Marco, slightly hysterically as he slowly inched away from the Demon's path. _'Go after the creepy clown picture...'_

The moment the Demon got there, however, a loud _**SLAM**_ was heard as the Demon put a hand forward, seeming to _crush_ the gravestone with his mind. It had to be one of _the most terrifying things that Marco had ever seen (and he had seen Star consume week old pizza and stale milk in one sitting)._

' _I'm sorry, Bon Bon,'_ Marco swallowed nervously at the pile of rubble that was once a grave marker. _'I don't like ghosts, but I'm not sure you'll be able to keep your promise to come back if your gravestone is like that…'_

He froze again, watching the Demon's next moves carefully. The Demon seemed to be looking around, but, fortunately, didn't seem to be able to sense Marco's presence.

 _THUMP_ _ **THUMP**_

Marco winced, feeling at his chest as his heart suddenly gave two painful _THUMPS._ What was—

The tan teen was able to decipher the sudden chest pain because, at that exact moment, the Demon turned and _**stared**_ _at him._ Marco froze, wondering if he had really been seen. He should be mostly concealed by this tombstone and this rain was thick enough to be pea soup! There should have been no way—

A moment later, another loud _**ROAR**_ filled the air and the Demon _leaped._

 _Oh yeah, he had_ _ **definitely**_ _been seen!_

Cursing, Marco's body nearly didn't _move_ — _he was literally frozen, his limbs were shaking bad enough to start a career in belly dancing—_ but fear was a wonderful and terrible thing. He dodged _just in time_ because the tombstone he had been hiding behind was reduced to the same state as Bon Bon's grave in a matter of seconds.

Beyond desperate, Marco began searching for a weapon but couldn't find anything satisfactory— _of all the times for the cemetery to be the cleanest place on the planet!_ This was it. There was nowhere left to run and he didn't think he could even if he _tried_. He was beyond exhausted and his nerves couldn't take it anymore. It was a miracle he has lasted this far, but he was praying for another miracle to get him out of this.

' _Pray…'_

Getting a crazy idea— _he had nothing left but those and just plain_ _ **bad**_ _ideas; though this was definitely both—_ he rushed into a Burial House; one that he remembered having those weird praying angels on stands beside the door on the inside. He rushed inside and slipped behind the door, climbing on top of one of the angel statues so that he dangerously pitched right above the door. He ripped off his hoodie, doing his best to straighten it out while trying to muffle his hyperventilating by roughly biting his lip. Now, this was _really_ it. His last resort. If this didn't work, he would die.

 _He would die_.

A moment passed before the Burial House began to _shake._ Muffling his surprised cry, Marco tightened his already precarious grip and tried to withstand the shocks. For this plan to work, he had to get the Demon to follow him inside. If he decided to just destroy the entire Burial House with Marco in it…well, _he had already devoted his life to this idea._

A moment later, the shocks stopped and Marco could almost _feel_ the Demon getting closer to the entrance.

' _Just a little closer…just a little bit more—_ ' He frantically chanted in his head.

 _There!_

The Demon floated into the Burial House and Marco _leaped_ down, _jamming_ his hoodie on top of those two horns that he had seen earlier on the Demon's head. Predictably, the fabric easily ripped and draped the clothing around the Demon's head. Before the other could get his bearings or take the red clothing off, Marco _kicked_ — _as hard as he possibly could, his life depending on how strong he managed this—_ the Demon away.

It was enough because the Demon _slammed_ into the other side of the Burial House, collapsing down to the ground with a loud _**CRASH**_ _._ And, as Marco had predicted, a heavy _shockwave_ emitted as he did, bouncing off all the walls. Suddenly, the already shaking Burial House was now _crashing_ down upon the Demon's form. Marco was _barely_ able to jump out of the way as it all was reduced to rubble and the Demon's _**ROAR**_ was lost to the sound of the collapsing building.

Marco, unable to properly control his jump, _faceplanted_ into the unforgiving cemetery ground. For a moment, he just lied there, the rain pelting his back and mud soaking his front, but he couldn't get up. He was too terrified to hear something, _anything_ , from the rubble behind him. He waited.

For a moment, it was quiet…

…and then, after another moment, it was still quiet. Or, as quiet as it could be with the rushing wind and storm raging.

Marco's heart skipped a beat. Had…had he done it?

He wasn't sure if he wanted to physically throw up or jump up and down like a maniac. He had _done_ it! He had _survived_! He had actually taken on a _Fire Demon_ and came out _victorious!_ And, not only that, but you could add _destroying a cemetery—though, it was definitely the Demon's fault. He had just been defending himself! He's not going to get charged for that, right?—_ to his rep of being a _badass_! So why…! Why…

 _Why did he feel so…so…_ _ **unsettled**_ _?_

Marco swallowed and rubbed his face with his arm. It didn't do much since he was wearing only a sleeveless white shirt and the rain eagerly replacing whatever moisture he had wiped off. He groaned, wanting more than nothing to go home, take a _warm_ shower, and hide in bed until next week while pretending none of the last hour had just happened. Yet, here he was, standing frozen— _literally and figuratively—_ in the _exact same spot_ as minutes ago, watching the rubble before him as if he thought something was going to change. And, well, if he lingered around long enough, it probably _would_. He wasn't prideful enough to think he could really kill a Demon— _though…this one hadn't looked that good, Marco had only gotten close once, but he had seemed… in pain and out of control…wait, why was he even thinking about this?—_ so said creature was probably just knocked out or something. If Marco didn't get going soon, he would catch his death in more ways than one— _he didn't let his imagination go wild with that, he'd have nightmares for weeks—_ so why… _why was he not_ _ **moving**_ _!?_

Now, Marco was someone who believed strongly in trusting your gut. It was difficult at times balancing that with his general common sense— _a definite rarity among his age group at times—_ but, whenever there was something just… _not right_ …he was the first to sit up and consider the situation. So, what about this situation wasn't right?

He considered the current situation, wondering what could possibly be out of place.

In the middle of a hurricane? _Check_ , but Marco had already known that. Perhaps he was sensing that it was about to go to _truly_ dangerous weather conditions? Hmm…very likely, but that doesn't seem like it was quite what was bothering him…

In the middle of a destroyed cemetery? _Check_ , Marco had purposely led the Demon here because there would be no one here— _yeah, sane people were bunkered inside—_ and, while it'd probably get wrecked, it was much better than the school or the middle of town. Was he worried that he would face permanent suspension for this? _…Yes_ , but he was pretty sure that would work out. Or, at the very least, Janna would be the one to get suspended— _to be honest, she caused it, and she was used to getting suspended because of weird things._

Knocked-out Demon in the middle of rubble? …His heart skipped a beat as he took a few cautious steps forward, peering over the edge with obvious trepidation. … _Check_ , he could see the outline of the Demon's body beneath the broken rocks and marble. It looked like the most uncomfortable position possible, but Marco wasn't feeling too charitable since the alternative was him being a charred lump on the ground. If he listened to his gut there was definitely… _something_ here that was amiss. Now, what was it?

He stared.

And stared.

And _stared_ so much that the rain was beginning to go from stinging his eyes to outright rubbing them raw. He couldn't understand what was _wrong_ — _everything was wrong in this situation, but his gut wasn't complaining about a lot of those things—_ in _particular_ here!? Storm, _check!_ Cemetery, _check!_ Unconscious Demon, _check!_ Hoodie on Demon's head, _check—_

He blinked, staring at the Demon's horns where his red hoodie— _his_ _ **favorite**_ _—_ had been shoved on before draping down over the other's face and currently pooling around said area. Pooling was definitely the right word, because, if it hadn't been soaked before, it was _definitely_ soaked now. And, on top of that, it had so much dirt and rubble on it that Marco wouldn't be surprised if it would be stained and worn away in those spots forever. There were also rips, tears, and burns everywhere, it would take Marco _forever_ to fix those—

He blinked, then blanched. What!? No, _no_! Was leaving his hoodie here what bothered him so much!? Was he crazy!? Yeah, sure, it was his _favorite_ hoodie, but it wasn't worth _dying_ for! Though…it _was_ one of the few _normal_ things that Star had gotten him, and for their 'Three-Year-Anniversary' at that just a few months ago. He had been rightfully pleased and promised her to take good care of it. She had been so happy. Her gift-giving skills were…peculiar…at times, and she was always so disappointed if he didn't genuinely enjoy whatever she got. In fact, she would usually go on a _rampage_ trying to find the ' _perfect gift'_ and honestly create a lot more trouble than needed in the first place. She would probably be… _very distressed_ if he told her that he had lost it— _aka, it was sacrificed in what would likely be the stupidest noble thing he would ever do—_ but preventing her, who was still very sick, from getting upset wasn't _really_ worth his life…

… _right!_?

…A moment later, he was inching towards the rubble, his heart pounding in his chest louder and _louder_ with every step he took. Honestly, it felt like a ticking _time bomb_ had made its home inside of him— _well, that would be an accurate description of this situation_ —but, despite all his revered logic, he couldn't convince himself to turn around and just leave.

He really didn't want to upset Star, that was true, but…it seemed even more _intense_ than that. Like, if he didn't get his hoodie, he would regret it for the rest of his life or something…

As he didn't have far to go in the first place, he found himself kneeling on the rocky rubble beside the unconscious Demon's form far too soon.

Every part of his body trembling, he stretched out his hand…grabbed the soaked red cloth…began to _pull—_

Marco _yelped_ as he landed on the ground with a loud _SMACK_ , rocks digging painfully into his back as he was suddenly found himself staring face-up into the blood-red eyes of an _enraged_ _Fire Demon._

 _THUMP THUMP THUMP_

His heartbeat was beating so fast, probably because he knew he was going to die. He tried to struggle beneath the Demon's grasp but was terrified to find he couldn't move at all. And it wasn't just terror, he suddenly realized that the intense discomfort around his throat wasn't just him having a hard time breathing, but the Demon's claws wrapped _tightly_ around his windpipe as he was pressed to the shattered ground. In a clearer mind, Marco might have been able to do something, but exhaustion and terror mingled so intermittently in his mind that he was surprised he was even still _conscious_. But, there really was no escape, no clever way that Marco would be able to get out of this one, he was completely out of tricks…

 _He was going to die_.

He wanted to close his eyes, even though it would prove to himself he was nothing more than a coward in the end, but couldn't take his gaze off the growling Demon above him. Their eyes were locked, and, upon closer inspection, he saw that the Demon's eyes were a sort of _maroon_ beneath the hazy glowing red.

 _THUMP THUMP_

Something inside of Marco _pulled_ , but he didn't know what. Was that his mind, telling him ways to attempt escape? Was that his heart, trying to rip him apart? Was that his gut, screaming for him to get out of there?

 _THUMP_

He wasn't sure how much time had passed, but the fact he wasn't _dead_ yet confused Marco greatly. Honestly, even if the Demon didn't want to completely incinerate him— _unlikely given how he was throwing those flames around earlier—_ or levitate his body and _smoosh_ him against the rubble— _painful and gruesome, probably a perfect death in the eyes of the other—_ the fact that his _clawed hands—which were…very warm; in fact, his entire body was warm, it was kind of a shock with the freezing rain and cold stone—were_ poised at his throat meant he could _easily rip the tender flesh apart without effort_.

But still…he wasn't…?

Marco stared as deeply as he could, trying to see what was going through the other's mind. He had thought before that the other seemed out of sorts, that his rampage was more spastically random than single-minded destruction. Perhaps…perhaps there was something else going on here? Something more than the simple rage at being summoned to a different plain of existence?

"H-hey," He found himself saying, against all logic, his voice barely audible against the torrential downpour all around them. "Are you… _okay?_ "

The Demon's brow seemed to _scrunch_ before suddenly raising the hand not holding Marco's throat up into the air in a prepared strike and _deargodhewasgoingtodiehewassosorryandpleaseeveryonedon'tmournhim_ —

- _but it never came_.

Suddenly, the light in the Demon's eyes faded— _turning into an exhausted shade of maroon—_ before closing. Then, Marco could feel that strange warmth _everywhere_ as he found himself being crushed by unexpected body weight.

For a moment, he did nothing.

Then, laying there in the rubble of a destroyed cemetery, in the middle of a hurricane with an unconscious Fire Demon collapsed upon him, Marco began to wonder if it was too late to start wishing for a normal life.

o0o0o

 _ **End Chapter 2**_

o0o0o

 **Author's Notes:**

 **Haha, what do you think? The 'Escape Scene' definitely went longer than expected, but Marco wanted to show off his awesome moves and clever planning skills—not that it did that much against Tom (well, I suppose he survived so it was a victory). Meanwhile, Tom is completely out of control and having a rough time. Wonder why he didn't finish Marco off though…? And I wonder if Marco's gut and heart were trying to tell him something besides '** _ **DANGER!'**_ **or this is just another case of Marco's odd life? Good thing Star wasn't around…things would have probably gone very different.**

 **Also, can you see all the references to episodes in the series? Kudos to you if you can name some!**

 **Review Please for More!**


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